


dearest

by skatzaa



Category: Seven Kingdoms Trilogy - Kristin Cashore
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 02:25:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15500256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skatzaa/pseuds/skatzaa
Summary: anonymous asked you: Fire's hair starts to fall out





	dearest

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks anon! I hate writing in past tense but this was a fun challenge for it. Also thank you for enabling me to continue my trend of writing about hair, bc there's nothing I love more than that
> 
> I adore the thought of Hanna and Fire's relationship just growing stronger and stronger over the years, and that was most of the inspiration for this <3

It was days like this one—the ones that started before dawn and ran on ceaselessly, full of people seeking Fire’s approval, despite her removed relation to the throne, now—that made Fire miss Brigan most.

She missed all of her family that passed through the flames to elsewhere, of course: Archer, Roen, Brocker, and even Cansrel, so long gone that Fire had lived most of her life without them. Of the royal siblings, Garan had been the first to leave nearly two decades before, from the sickness that had always lingered; then Nash and Mila both within a month of one another the following winter. Clara had been gone eleven years from an accident in the north when she was visiting her son. 

But she missed Brigan most, he who had been dearest to her heart. She had been without him for long enough that the pain of his absence had mostly faded, but she desperately missed his gentle way and the steadiness of his mind with every day that passed.

A knock at the door drew her from her melancholy; she had just escaped from the last of her visitors, surely there wasn’t anyone else? Fire found herself too exhausted by the day’s dealings to make the effort to find out who stood on the other side, so she readied herself to stand, but then Hanna’s quiet voice: “Mama?”

Fire smiled and said, “You can come in, darling.”

Hanna stepped into Fire’s rooms, dressed as though she was still the commander of the queen’s army rather than fifteen years retired. Fire shared the Queen’s house on the castle grounds with Hanna and her wife, but they could go days without seeing one another. This was the first time they had been in the same room for more than a moment in nearly a week, and it gladdened Fire to see her daughter.

“Come here,” Fire said, holding out her hand. Hanna drew closer and clasped Fire’s hand in both of her own, sinking into the chair next to Fire’s beside the unlit hearth. “Goodness, you smell like horse manure.”

Hanna laughed, crows feet bunching up for a moment, and leaned back. “If I do, it’s because I’ve spent the entire day in the stables, showing Callem how to  _properly_ muck a stall.”

Why Hanna felt the crown prince needed to know how to muck a stall to the army’s exacting standard, Fire didn’t know, but it was an impulse undoubtedly inherited from her father.

“I heard you’ve been quite popular today,” Hanna said, as though she had nothing to do with Fire’s renewed popularity with the people of the court and her many,  _many_ great-nieces and great-nephews. Fire gave her daughter a scathing look, and Hanna at least had the good sense to pretend to be ashamed. “You know we mean well.”

They did mean well, that Fire could tell without even testing the waters of their intentions. 

“I know.” She sighed. “I just wish it wasn’t necessary.”

They sat together for a long while, soft sounds from the kitchen—probably Kyra, who loved to cook nearly as much as her wife loved horses—filtering in through the stone walls. Then, Hanna said, “I miss him too, Mama.”

Fire leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Today marked the sixth anniversary of Brigan’s death, and it had weighed heavily on both their hearts for weeks now. The day’s meetings were a distraction, and a welcome one, just as hours spent in the stables were.

“I know, dear one,” Fire told her, squeezing her daughter’s hand.

Hanna drew a deep breath and a great shudder seemed to pass through her body. When she exhaled, her entire presence lightened. 

“Would you like me to brush your hair? I know your scarf must be bothering you after today.”

Fire smiled at Hanna’s thoughtfulness and said, “Yes, thank you. The little ones love to pull on it.”

Hanna stood and moved to the dresser to retrieve a comb, then came to stand behind the back of Fire’s chair. Her fingers was gentle as she unwrapped Fire’s scarf, and she was equally as gentle with the comb.

Fire allowed herself to relax under her daughter’s touch. She let down her mental walls as well, safe from the feelings that always rolled off the castle’s inhabitants in massive waves. In recent years, she had found herself more and more overwhelmed by large crowds, and she often wondered if it was a problem other monsters had faced in the past. If they had, they hadn’t written about it, though that may have been due to the fact that human monsters rarely lived to Fire’s age in the first place.

Hanna made a low noise of surprise. Fire glanced up at her from over her shoulder and saw her daughter staring at the comb. Tangled in its teeth was a startling amount of red hair. Hanna reached out and ran her fingers through the mane of Fire’s hair, and even more came loose at her touch.

“Is it... falling out?” Hanna asked, the question not meant for anyone in particular.

It was true that Fire’s hair had thinned some over the decades, as hair often did with age, but the vibrant color had faded only a little even when Hanna’s hair was most of the way to gray. 

Fire thought of experiments with Archer during her childhood, to change or get rid of the thing that had brought so much unwanted attention to her. She thought of Cansrel, and the way he had loved being wanted.

A human monster who’s hair—her beautiful, overwhelming hair—was falling out. It was practically unheard of. Cansrel, certainly, had never dealt with such a problem.

Fire exhaled and decided: “Good riddance.”

Hanna’s laugh was a gift, and so Fire allowed it to ease the grief in her heart. They both had lost so many they loved, over the years, but they were still here, together, and that counted for something. It counted for a great many things, actually. Her hair, in comparison to that, was hardly anything.

Hanna cleaned off the comb and began again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are appreciated <3
> 
> Read on,  
> Skats


End file.
